


Delicate

by elmstreetkid



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmstreetkid/pseuds/elmstreetkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A widowed housewife and a no-nonsense Courser manage to chip away one another's tough exteriors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> true luv is my kink

Delicate. That's what she looked like. 

Father had sent X6-88 to meet his mother at Libertalia, to wipe out some raiders. A cakewalk for X6, but for the mother? Well, there was a resemblance, of course. She had the same ginger hair Father had in his youth, the same narrow nose and heavy lidded eyes. And she was small, a full head shorter than X6-88, which only made her look more fragile despite the leather armor strapped over her vault suit and the rather impressive combat rifle held by a strap over her shoulder. 

"Are you the Courser I'm supposed to meet?" There was a dog at her heels, a domestic looking thing wearing a patriotic bandanna and staring at X6 with friendly eyes. 

"Yes ma'am. Unit X6-88. Are you ready to proceed?" 

X6 can see a slight, suppressed tremble in her hands when she draws the rifle and flicks off the safety. She has combat experience, but not enough. 

"Yeah. Let's go." 

The raiders on the way to Libertalia were the usual depraved trash X6 was used to dealing with during retrieval missions. He was a Courser, a crackshot and an expert combatant. The small woman defied expectations, however. She follows X6's suite, ducking behind the scrap walls of the makeshift raider base and firing from behind cover. 

"Dogmeat." She whistles and the hound with her is no longer a puppy, but a rabid attack dog, diving at the calves and throats of raiders, attacking them while his mistress lines up the scope of her rifle. Each time the raider within the dog's jaws became distracted enough to raise their tire irons and knives to him, or point their pipe rifles and pistols at him, she would pull the trigger and plant a bullet in their head. 

Impressive. Mildly impressive, but impressive none the less. She was smart enough to supplement her lacking experience with strategy, although by the time she and X6 had fought through the raiders and were about to ambush the missing synth, she was panting like her dog. 

"Are you alright, ma'am? If you need medical aid, I have stimpaks and antiseptic gel on hand." She isn't bothered by the lack of concern in his voice, but rather seemed embarrassed by her perceived weakness.

"No, no." She's kneeling, patting her dog. He nuzzles his nose against her palm and when she's satisfied that he's unhurt, she stands again and readies her gun. "I'm just not used to this. All this fighting, I mean. He told you that, probably." 

"He?" 

"Shaun." There's a softness in her voice when she says Father's name. 

"We were briefed by Father after your reunion. But we were told the bare minimum. You had no combat training, no experience before your cryogenic preservation. That was all." 

"That was all? I'm not trying to pry or anything. That just seems a little scarce." 

"It was all that was needed for the mission, ma'am." 

She fiddles with her sleeve, examining a smudge on her suit in the spaces of her armor. "Is there anything you might want to know, at least?" 

"I have no requests, ma'am. May I ask your name, however? Father only referred to you as his mother." 

"Delilah. My name is Delilah." 

"You don't think that's a little familiar, ma'am?" 

"I don't know what else to be called. Mother doesn't really fit, don't you think." 

"I suppose so, ma'am. Delilah. Do you remember B5-92's recall code?" 

"Yeah." She loads another cartridge into her rifle. "Let's go." 

...

They had split ways once the business was done. X6 was to transport the escaped, now retained, synth to the SRB and presumably Delilah was to report to Father. 

"Unit X6-88." Director Ayo stood outside the doors to the Bureau, clipboard in hand. 

"X6-88 reporting in. Good afternoon, Director Ayo." The retained synth trailed behind X6, the sight of him causing Director Ayo to scribble on his clipboard. 

"Another successful mission, X6-88. Good work."

Directing the synth through the doors of the SRB, Ayo tenses. "Tell me, X6-88, what did you think of the mother?" 

An interesting question, one with many answers both correct and incorrect. She was pragmatic, but delicate. She was poised, but unsteady. She was calm, terribly so, but she conveyed more than she was aware of. 

"She performed adequately in the field of combat and with regards to mission directives." X6 replied. "I look forward to working with her again." 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Everything was so sterile in the Institute. After months of living in the dust and dirt of the Commonwealth Wasteland, the cleanliness of the Institute was both incredibly jarring and comforting to Delilah. Somehow, it seemed like a dream, like she would wake up and Nate would be alive and Shaun would be a baby and in his crib and she could go on with the life she had before. She twists the knob of the shower of her new quarters, the increase in the water's heat a substitute for a pinch and the discomfort proves that it's real. And it's selfish, almost, how out of everything that's happened, she's most focused on her shower, a real shower that isn't just pouring boiled water over herself while sitting in a cracked and faded bathtub in Sanctuary. 

The only thing that tore her away from the shower and into one of the laundered jumpers provided for her was a polite knock on the door. 

"Coming! I'm coming!" She called, brushing wet strands of hair away from her face. 

Clumsy and wrinkled fingers fumble with the door mechanism, adding to the subdued embarrassment hidden inside her, the feeling that she doesn't belong. Eventually, she gets it right, and the door slides open to show the Courser she worked with earlier in the day, X6-88. 

"I hope I didn't bother you, ma'am." He's polite. At least she thinks so. It's hard to get a read on him. 

"No, no. I was done." 

If one were to compare X6-88 to something, based on face value, it would be a brick wall. And Delilah would compare him to that, too, she really would. But within the first minutes of Libertalia, she had already seen past the surface, just a crack. A brick wall can be a barrier, it can be safety, it can be something that will take time and effort to see past. All of those things could be said of X6. He didn't coddle, but he protected. He was blunt, but he was honest.

He was complex, to say the least. 

Like a pillar, he stood stiff in the doorway to Delilah's quarters while her hair dripped the remnants of her shower onto the shoulders of her jumpsuit. 

"Do you, uh, want to come in or anything?" She swept her hand back, gesturing towards the couch. It was painfully awkward but X6 didn't notice, or at least he didn't react.

"This isn't a social visit, ma'am." His response was free of scorn, free of judgement. It was a statement more than anything else. 

"Yeah, yeah I know. Just trying to be polite. So, um, what did you need?" 

"Father is already discussing the details of your next assignment, and others have already expressed interest in your aid with their own respective pursuits. Also, because of the success of the Libertalia mission, I've been granted permission to travel with you if you so wish it."

"Like a bodyguard? Yeah, that would be great." 

Without a change in expression or tone of voice, X6 replies without a beat. 

"Not exactly, ma'am. You can handle yourself from what I've seen. I'll just watch your back." 

"And you watch mine?" A grin spreads across her freckled face and something bubbles in X6's stomach. Institute scientists had smiled at him before, a sign of politeness after a successful mission, but a genuine smile was... unusual. He was a Courser, he was supposed to represent the very model of an Institute soldier. But her response was almost friendly. It was... different. Neither good nor bad but something he definitely wasn't used to. 

"Right. I'll be ready to depart whenever you're ready." 

She's still smiling, for reasons unknown to both of them. 

"Yeah. I'll talk to Shaun and get back you later, X6." 

...

"Hey, X6!"

The previous day's enthusiasm is still laced into Delilah's voice and smile as she flags X6 down the following morning. She approaches him in the SRB as he finishes the last of his morning ration wafers, clad in her freshly laundered vault suit and combat armor. 

"Did you need something, ma'am?" There's a muffled shuffling as he brushes the crumbs from his gloved hands. 

"Alana asked me to retrieve a synth that was captured by raiders. Want to come? I have to stop by my place on the surface, first, but it'll only take a minute." 

When he nods in confirmation, Delilah raises her Pip-Boy and readies the relay. 

"Great! Like I said, just a second." With a flip of a dial, the familiar white flash of the molecular relay blinds X6, fading away to a broken down, Pre-War neighborhood. When the shock of the relay wears off, Delilah immediately turns and heads towards the nearest ruined home. 

"Just a second!" She calls over her shoulder, turning back to greet the Mr. Handy unit who refers to her as "mum". The Mr. Handy, Codsworth she calls him, turns back to a semi-decorative mutfruit plant and several tato plants in the front yard while Delilah's combat boot-clad feet stomp towards the bedrooms. X6 hesitantly follows suit. 

"Were you looking for something specific here, ma'am? You realize that you can make requests at the supply depot in the Institute, right?" 

Regret is something X6 was barely familiar with. On the few occasions he felt it, it was over something minor. A few fusion cells too many spent on a mission, engaging in hand to hand combat techniques that caused damage to his uniform, but this was different. When he turned the corner he saw Delilah, kneeling in a nursery. Father's nursery. A battered crib was pushed against the wall, and Delilah's knees were planted firmly onto the rocket ship print rug as she dug through a broken down dresser. And X6 regretted it, his callous attitude and emotionless response to something that obviously mattered a great deal to her and therefore to Father. 

Victorious, she once again flashes a grin to X6, holding a small storybook in her hands. 

"Just wanted to get this while it was still on my mind." The front of the book is printed with "You're S.P.E.C.I.A.L.!", a cartoonish baby carraige underneath the title. 

"I used to read this to Shaun when he was... well, before everything." X6 extends a hand to help her to her feet, which she accepts. Through the leather of his gloves, X6 can feel the delicacy of her hands, the way she holds herself gracefully and the fresh callouses on her palm and fingers. And like the day before, something stirs inside X6, emotions from the sheer display of humanity and openness from the woman before him. She's on her feet in seconds, a silence settling over the nursery for what feels like decades. 

"I thought he might like to see it again." Her voices cracks as she breaks the silence, eyelashes fluttering in a near futile attempt at blinking back her tears. "I already took some of the family photos Codsworth saved to him. I just forgot to pick this up last time I was here." 

Without a thought, without regards to preserving the ideal image of a Courser, X6 puts his hand on Delilah's shoulder. It's the most comforting gesture he's ever shown another person. 

"Ma'am. Delilah." She wipes at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand. X6 rarely spoke, but for once he was at a loss for words. 

"You... You're a fine mother. Father knows this." 

Her hand is on his. His hand is on her shoulder and her hand is on his. Another display of emotion, of closeness, of humanity, and X6 feels sick. A tightness grips his chest and his stomach churns, and it's an incredibly bittersweet sickness. X6 never wants it to end. 

"Thank you, X6." Her hand is light, her voice is soft, and in a moment it's all gone. His arms drop awkwardly to his sides as she tucks the picture book into her bag. "Now let's get going before Codsworth starts crying. We've got some raiders to kill and a synth to retrieve." 


End file.
